There was the party—she could remember that at least. Thereafter, it faded into an alcoholic blur of worrying proportions. It had been a mistake to...venture out. She could see that now. She should have known better than to go to the damned party when it was bloody obvious Gary would be there, too. Gary who had led her merrily up the garden path for three bloody years before telling her, ‘It’s not you, Babe, it’s me—I can’t commit right now, so I think it would be better if we had some time. It took her seconds to put in the combination that everyone could practically recite. She was gleefully the center of attention. I stood propping my door open watching as the young lady I'd fathered and raised slowly started unbuttoning her blouse. She hung it over the door of her locker and reached back deftly to pop the clasp of her bra. With one swift motion it not only popped free it fell down her arms and she tossed it into her locker.The next to go was her skirt. She undid the zipper at. More

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